


Code of Conduct

by flootzavut



Series: Code of Conduct [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, F/M, Kibbs, Romance, Unresolved Sexual Tension, light sexual situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 09:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4429391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/pseuds/flootzavut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Like he could be out-glared by some slip of a girl- woman. "What do you want, Kate?" Shit.' Kibbs, angst, a little fluff, a soupçon of very light smuttiness. Sexual situations and some vulgar language, if that troubles you, look away now ;) Smuttier followup coming soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_GIBBS_

He shouldered open the basement door and stopped dead. Kate was sitting a few steps up from the bottom of the stairs. She looked around, smiled a little shyly, looking unusually and unaccountably nervous.

"Hi."

"Hi, Kate." _What the hell are you doing here?_ No, that would come across like he wasn't pleased to see her, like she was unwelcome in his house, which wasn't true at all. It was just... guaranteed to mess with his head. "You okay?"

She nodded. He continued down the stairs, slowly, and was (mostly) relieved when she got up and moved down to the floor so he didn't have to brush past her.

"What's up?" _Might as well get to the point_. Then maybe she'd leave and he would no longer have to watch what he did or said so he wouldn't accidentally hit on her.

She blushed. "I was wondering-"

Gibbs raised his eyebrows questioningly. He totally wasn't used to seeing Kate embarrassed or even uncomfortable. It intrigued him far more than it should.

"I get the impression you know what you're doing."

He looked at her warily. "Know what I'm doing about what?"

She stepped a little closer. "When it comes to... sex."

He stopped breathing for a moment and swallowed hard. _What the...?_ When his vocal cords started working again, he cleared his throat, but he still didn't manage to actually speak. Was there a safe answer here? 'Yes' would be cocky. Truthful, if he did say so himself, but cocky. On the other hand, he wasn't about to say no; not to anybody, and especially not to Kate.

More to the point, there didn't seem to be any _safe_ answer at all when he didn't know why she was asking the question. Easier, and less risky, to just stare her out, hope she'd say something to make this surreal conversation make sense.

Unexpectedly, she continued to stare right back up at him, her chin tilted up, defiant.

_Yeah, right_. Like he was going to crack first. Like he could be out-glared by some slip of a girl- woman. "What do you want, Kate?" _Shit_.

"You," she said simply.

He gaped at her. "Me what?"

She laughed, came still closer. "Just you."

"Kate, what are you-"

He didn't get to finish the question. She stood up on tiptoe, pulled his head down to hers, and kissed him full on the mouth.

_God_. She tasted like chocolate and sex and woman, and she wasn't holding back, and it was... He leaned into her with a moan, felt her hands fisted against his chest, her tongue eager, her mouth warm and welcoming and flavoured with bourbon.

_Bourbon_. He made himself pull away, ignoring the whine of his heart and his crotch. She tasted like bourbon.

"Kate."

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, and she looked up at him. He gulped at her expression, made himself notice how the dark eyes that offered to swallow him whole were outlined in red, how the scent of alcohol lingered on her breath, a trace of sadness in the corners of her mouth.

"Katie, what's wrong?"

She frowned up at him - pouted, almost. "I just want-" She reached up, fingers hooking into the neck of his shirt, seeking out his skin. "I need..."

He closed a hand round hers, stilled her fingers so he had some small chance of thinking straight.

"Don't you want me, Gibbs? Wouldn't you like to... show me?"

"Show you what?" He cursed himself for the stupid, dangerous question that slipped out before he could stop it, groaned when her free hand landed between his legs.

" _Show. Me_." For a moment he couldn't react, couldn't even think, as she popped open a button on his shirt and her lips ghosted up his throat. "I know you want to, Gibbs. I can tell..." She rubbed the uncomfortable bulge in his pants and he moved involuntarily against her hand. He knew this was a bad idea - a terrible idea - but his body didn't care. "C'mon Gibbs..."

He was dreaming. This had to be a dream. No way was Kate Todd standing in front of him, asking him to further her sex education.

Even drunk, this just wasn't Kate... His body might not care, but he did.

He took a deep breath, gently took hold of her wrist to stop the far too tantalising stimulation before it had a chance to completely overwhelm him.

"Kate, what happened? This isn't- what's _wrong_?"

She shot him a venomous look, pulled her hand from his with some force, turned away from him for a moment and stamped her foot like a sulky child. When she turned back she still looked furious, but her voice had a pleading edge to it "Jesus, Gibbs, can't you just- I need-"

The fact she couldn't actually bring herself to say it out loud _was_ very Kate. It made him hopeful she wasn't as far gone as she seemed, might still listen to reason.

"Kate, I'm not gonna-" his voice cracked, betraying him "-not when you're drunk and sad and-"

"I am _not_ drunk!" Her indignation would, in a different situation, have been amusing. "I know what I want, Gibbs."

He stepped towards her, wanting to soften his words with a touch, reaching out to lightly grasp her arm. "Kate, I won't... take advantage of you this way. You know that."

For a few moments her defiance held. Then her face crumbled and, looking like she was about to cry, she turned on her heel, tore herself away from him and stalked off up the basement stairs before he could react.

It took him a moment to gather his wits, and then he scooted after her, caught her at the front door, pinned her to it from behind. "Where'd you think you're going?"

"Home," she mumbled.

He took in a long, steadying breath, told his body to go take an ice bath, and started searching her, rummaging in her pockets despite her protests till he found her keys.

"Hey!" She grabbed at them, her alcohol inhibited reactions slow and clumsy, and he stepped away, away from the danger of her fury and her too inviting curves.

"You're not driving home."

"Why not?" Even drunk, her anger sharpened her voice enough to draw blood. "Why the fuck not?"

"Not lettin' you drive drunk either, Katie."

She span round, and then she was hitting him, battering him, as hard as she could. He wrapped both arms around her, embracing her attack, one hand stroking her hair. The anger turned quickly to sobbing, and then her fists uncoiled and her hands slipped around him, under his jacket, clinging to his back through the thin cotton of his shirt, clinging to him as if she might otherwise drown.

He held her close, rocking her gently, making soothing noises, feeling the tension ebb out of her. She leaned hard into him, stumbled slightly even though they were standing still, and he suddenly realised she had been upright through sheer force of will. Looping an arm under her armpits, he pulled her closer and steadied her against his chest. Her sobs faded away, though when he looked down there were tears running down her cheeks and dripping off her nose. How much was exhaustion or embarrassment he had no idea. He had the impression that if he let go, she would crumble to the floor with no resistance, all the fight leached out of her.

"What'm I gonna do with you?" he muttered, fairly grateful when she didn't respond. She was still leaking against his chest, too tired or ashamed or whatever else she was feeling to try and hide her tears or the way she was silently shaking. With a sigh, he scooped her up in his arms and started off upstairs. He wasn't sure it was a wise course of action, but it was the best one he could come up with.

At least his bed was made, the upside of the fact he rarely used it that it was clean and fresh.

He pulled back the comforter and laid her carefully down, then, at a loss what else to do, shrugged off his jacket, kicked off his shoes, and crawled in behind her. She didn't protest, even snuggled back against him, letting out a sigh when he wrapped an arm around her again. He felt somewhat reassured he'd made a good decision, or at least not an irredeemably terrible one.

Whatever the hell was going on here, he would figure it out in the morning, and at least in the meantime she was warm and safe, not crashing her car or being preyed on by less scrupulous men than he. Whether he'd actually get any sleep with her in his bed was another matter, but as sleepless nights went, he figured, he'd certainly had worse.


	2. Chapter 2

  _KATE_

Almost before she was really awake, Kate knew there was something... off. Her mouth tasted thick and her head was wobbly, but somewhere in the fog she still knew the bed she was sleeping in was definitely not hers, nor anyone else's she recognised. There was a warm body pressed into her back and an arm holding her close, which was only vaguely alarming - Ed had left her reeling and she had an unhealthy habit of getting over boyfriends by finding and fucking someone highly inappropriate - but she was fully clothed. And if this wasn't her apartment, why did it feel so oddly familiar?

She let her eyes slip closed again and attempted a mental inventory. _So_. Latest boyfriend: disaster. The memory of his words resurfaced all too quickly and she tried to ignore how something so petty could make her feel so small. She felt stupid, weak, for caring so much, for not being able to brush it off as being a worthless opinion from a man who, as it turned out, was a complete jerk, but it had hurt her, way down deep.

She'd gotten in her car and driven till she was nearly out of gas, crying all the while, and then, then she'd somehow found herself outside Gibbs' house and had let herself in, and she'd started in on his bourbon and things got a little... fuzzy.

Whoever's bed she was in was holding her closely and firmly, too much so, most likely, for her to easily turn and look without waking him. She frowned. She really wanted to figure out who he was, if at all possible, before she actually had to face him.

Ignoring her eyes' insistence they really, really wanted to stay closed and go back to sleep, she peeled them open and peered at the hand whose fingers were interlaced with hers. Darker skin than hers, slightly rough; a strong, working hand, and the chain around his wrist, and something was really very familiar here and she bit down on a swear word as she figured it out. The familiarity - it was the scent of bourbon and sawdust and something uniquely Gibbs she'd recognised.

She cringed as memories began to piece together in her head. She'd thrown herself at him, and been turned down. And then she'd yelled at him, and cried, and while her recollections after that were decidedly hazy, apparently somehow she'd ended up in his bed anyway, though not in quite the way she'd planned. She couldn't decide if it would've been better or worse to find herself here if she was naked and had bite marks on her neck. At least then she wouldn't have been rejected twice in one night.

If she'd been thinking straight, she would've known there was no way Gibbs would sleep with her, especially when she was drunk, but she supposed if she had been thinking straight she probably wouldn't have ended up drinking bourbon alone in his basement, so the question would never have arisen. Gibbs didn't mix business and pleasure if he could help it; he only dated redheads; despite the odd unexpectedly flirtatious remark and the warm looks he'd occasionally throw her way, he'd never said or done anything to give her any _real_ hope he was interested, or would bend his rules for her. And yet still, broken-hearted and lonely, she'd somehow decided it would be a _fantastic_ idea to come to his house and attempt to seduce him.

 _You're a fucking idiot, Kate Todd_ , she told herself angrily. What had Gibbs said to her when he'd offered her a job? 'Pull that crap at NCIS... I won't give you a chance to resign...' Granted, she'd had the job a while now, was reasonably sure she did it well and was appreciated, most of the time. But she hadn't just attempted to break his precious rule twelve, she'd tried to do it _with him_ and _oh God._

It wasn't as if she could deny it or hide it or pretend everything was fine. He'd been there. He'd witnessed one of his agents, one of his supposed elite, sticking her tongue down his throat and then grabbing his dick. _Oh, God_. And then said agent had ended up in his bed and even with a regular dude she would have her work cut out to slink away without waking him in the hope he'd ignore it. With Gibbs... yeah, there was no way she was getting out of this one gracefully.

She still couldn't figure out just _how_ she'd ended up in his bed. She worried at the thought, tried to pin it down, without success. Snatches of memory kept surfacing. She'd kissed him... for a moment he'd kissed her back, and her stomach did an uncomfortably delicious flip as she remembered.

She was self aware enough to admit he was attractive, that she had secretly _wanted_ to kiss him, be kissed by him, despite her better judgement - just to see what it was like, why women kept marrying him when he was such an unapologetic asshole. That now and then she'd entertained little private fantasies about his mouth and his hands - damn his hands. It didn't help at all that she now had a dose of reality to go with the fantasy, a taste of something she couldn't have.

He'd been tempted, for a moment. The thought was oddly comforting. She wasn't stupid. She'd seen his expression, felt his body respond to her touch, and at least it had been his sense of honour and propriety and whatever the fuck else that had stopped him. He hadn't been disgusted or scornful or amused, he'd just been... sensible. At least he hadn't laughed or dismissed her out of hand.

She could feel tears starting to roll down her cheeks again and she was too tired to fight them. Losing a job and a boyfriend in one day, being humiliated, being told she was boring and unsexy and didn't know how to have fun and then managing to detonate a bomb in her professional life as well... this had to be some kind of record. This was worse even than when she'd left the Secret Service. She pressed her hand to her mouth to muffle the noise, and let herself weep.

It wasn't until his arm tightened around her waist and his other folded around her as well, fingers still twined through hers, that she had any idea Gibbs had woken up, right in the middle of her pity party.

He tugged her still closer to his body, murmuring something she couldn't quite catch, and despite everything it was so nice to be held she didn't protest, even though at any moment he would realise who she was and probably recoil in horror before firing her and sending her home. His lips brushed over her spine and then he laid an open-mouthed kiss on the side of her neck that made her have to bite her lip not to sigh or sob or gasp.

He rocked her gently, still making soothing noises, and she allowed herself to be comforted, illicit though it was. It was way too long since anyone had done this for her, had pulled her close and cradled her like she was precious and worthy of protection. She had a feeling the more she enjoyed it, the more it was going to sting when he realised who it was he had in his arms and abruptly kicked her out of his bed, his home, his life, but she couldn't help herself. It was simply too damn nice to temporarily give up, to cede responsibility, to have someone hold her, love her, reassure her, even if it wasn't really real.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." His voice was a deep rumble in her ear, overlaid with warm affection and concern.

She rarely heard Gibbs be this gentle, this... tender. This side of him was usually carefully hidden. She knew it existed, had seen glimpses of it, but it was buried deep, reserved for children, reserved for vulnerable people when they desperately needed a champion. She could almost laugh at the realisation it was finally being extended to her - she was grateful, but she must sound more pathetic than she'd realised to bring it out in him. Though she could feel tears still slipping down her cheeks, her uncontrollable sobbing was easing at last, and she took a few deep breaths to try and regain her equilibrium.

Another soft kiss grazed her skin and she did her best not to react, even though she felt it down to her toenails.

"Shhh-shhh. It's okay, Katie..."

It took a moment to register, then she peeled open an eye. _Did he just...?_ That was... he'd just said her name? She waited, hardly daring to breathe.

"Kate, it's okay."

She swallowed hard. There was no mistaking it this time, and yet he was still holding her, and she felt a light pressure on her hair as if he'd just dropped a kiss on her head. _Who is this man and what did he do with Gibbs?_ It was maybe not the most charitable thought, but she'd expected, at the very least, to be pushed away and glared at for daring to trespass so deeply into his life.

She twisted her head round and found him gazing at her with sleepy, half-open eyes. He brushed her hair out of her face with a couple of fingers, wiped at the tears on her cheeks, all the while steadily regarding her, as if waking up to a bedful of Kate was a regular occurrence in his life.

She swallowed a couple more times, opened her mouth to speak, realised she had no idea what to say, then closed it again. Unable or unwilling or un- _something_ to break this strange spell that had him being so kind, she turned further towards him so she could maintain eye contact without getting a crick in her neck.

He let her adjust herself, leaned his head on his hand, though his other arm remained draped around her waist. "Hey." He smiled at her, just a small, lopsided, slightly sad smile that made something clench painfully around her heart and made her want to comfort him right back.

"Hey," she managed, utterly confused by the situation and his reaction and the knot of emotion stuck in her throat.

He blinked slowly. She wondered if her marching orders would come once he was properly awake and functioning.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, knowing she was breaking yet another of his cardinal rules, knowing without needing to be told that the momentary smirk on his face was because he knew what she was thinking, and was probably suppressing an urge to needle her about it. She smiled wanly at the familiarity.

He shook his head and shrugged a shoulder as if to brush off her enormous faux pas as a passing aberration, as if she hadn't let herself into his house and made evidently unwelcome overtures to him, or at least as if the fact she _had_ was no big deal. She blushed just remembering it, feeling like an idiot again.

Gibbs continued to watch her, no anger or recrimination in his expression, no reproach, no censure, watching her till the heat in her cheeks had faded, then finally opening his mouth.

Kate braced herself, still not certain how long she should expect this reprieve to last.

"What happened? What got you so upset?"

His voice was still low and soft, his eyes warm, intense, concerned. Apparently ignoring the fact she was in his bed when she clearly shouldn't be, had kissed and then groped him, that according to his own rules all she deserved right now was a pink slip. She was scared of trusting he wouldn't suddenly change his mind and throw her out, but at the same time he was making her feel safe and wanted and she was not about to turn that down.

"Bad breakup."

He made a noise that was not quite a laugh. "Been there."

She grinned for a second at his expression. Yeah, it made sense he of all people would have experience in this area, would understand. "Do they get any easier?"

He pulled a face and shrugged. "Depends why it happens, I guess. And how much you care about the other person."

There was a question in his voice. An opening, an offer to listen.

She thought about it for a moment. "I don't..." She sighed. "He wasn't the person I thought he was. I liked him a lot right up until he showed his true colours, and then, well." For a profiler, she truly sucked at reading men, and she just because she could see the painful irony didn't make it hurt any less when she got someone so utterly wrong. She had really thought Ed cared about her.

"Sounds like a lucky escape."

"Huh. I suppose that's one way of looking at it."

He gave her another sad half smile. "Trust me, bein' with someone who hides who they are... it ain't worth it."

Kate smiled back shyly. It was maybe the most personal thing he'd ever told her, and she was touched he'd opened up to her even a tiny bit. The solidarity was nice, but the trust was even nicer, and even more unexpected.

"It's not even that he broke up with me, it's how, you know? I just... how could he be so cruel?" She sniffed back the tears that were threatening to start again. "He said I was boring. Boring and uptight and... cold. Do I seem cold to you, Gibbs?"

He shook his head, a smile pulling at the edges of his mouth, unaccountably amused, chuckling softly. "Nope. No, you're definitely not cold, Katie."

He said it with such certainty, such finality, she couldn't help but laugh, and it made her relax a little and forget she had no right to be here spilling her guts. "He said..." She sighed, thinking back over Ed's words, and the contemptuous tone in which he'd delivered them, the flippant way he'd told her how little she meant to him. Her voice went flat as she continued and she could feel the tears welling up again in her eyes. "He said I work too much, and it's stupid for a woman to have a career like mine." She snorted. Coming from a man who could just barely fit her into his life, that had been rich. "He said- he said I was only good for sex and I- I wasn't good enough at that to make it worth his while."

It had made her feel more worthless than anything had in a very long time. Like all she'd been to a man she'd really liked - who she'd honestly thought liked her, might even love her - was a hole and a pair of tits.

Now she'd said it out loud, though, she suddenly remembered it was _Gibbs_ she was talking to, and felt the colour flare up in her cheeks. She really hadn't meant to inform _anyone_ , much less Gibbs, that she was apparently so very bad in bed. But it was too late, it was out there, it was said, and at least he was still looking at her with empathy and concern.

"I know it's stupid," she choked out. "He's an asshole, I should've had him figured out sooner, but I just..." She felt like such a fool.

He leaned in to her and wrapped her back up in his arms, rocking her and stroking her back as she cried into his chest. "Oh, Kate."

His voice was so quiet, so sweet, so caring, it untwisted something that had been kinked up inside of her for a long time, and when she started sobbing again this time, it was a relief.


	3. Chapter 3

_GIBBS_

He'd really never been great with crying women in his life, in any capacity. Even, or perhaps especially, when the woman in question was Kate Todd. It was enough of a mindfuck to have her here in his bed, in his arms. Trying to deal with her outpouring of emotion as well? He was navigating without map, compass or clue.

It made him feel guilty, and worse, it made him feel helpless, an emotion that was way too close to weakness, to fear, to caring altogether too damn much. If he could go deck the bastard, he'd feel a hell of a lot better. But that wasn't what Kate needed right now, so here he was stuck in a role for which he was pathetically ill-suited.

At a loss, he had settled for making gentle, soothing noises as he rubbed a hand slowly and firmly up and down her back. Judging by the way her head was buried in his chest, how she was hanging on to him like he was a life preserver in rough seas, he at least wasn't making anything _worse_. All things considered, he was inclined to count it as a win.

He'd slept unexpectedly well, apparently more of a sap than he'd realised when it came to her; more susceptible to the comfort of her body nestled trustingly into his, her hair against his cheek, her warmth and scent and softness.

Eventually she stopped shaking, and a while after that her grip loosened slightly. He edged a couple inches away from her, suddenly very aware he had ended up kinda-sorta lying on top of her - a position which was a little too enjoyable for his already strained professionalism.

He wiped the tears away from her cheeks, tried to ignore how fragile she looked, how much he wanted to cradle her face and kiss the sadness away; kept his touch light and brief and not... incriminating. He hoped.

"Better?"

She managed a wobbly smile. "A bit."

"Good."

She leaned against his hand for a moment, and his breath hitched when she brushed a light kiss to his thumb. "Thanks."

"Welcome." Ah, fuck, his voice was suddenly low and gravelly and he had to hope she was still too caught up in her own emotions to wonder why.

The corner of her mouth twitched up into another smile, still crooked but a little less wobbly. "I'm not very good at this."

He wasn't sure what the 'this' was. He could tell her one thing she was _very_ good at was lying in his bed looking beautiful and inviting, making him want to forget every last rule he'd ever made, and did she want to consider doing it on a regular basis?

But... that probably wasn't a good idea. Instead he kept his mouth shut and listened.

"I just... sometimes I think there must be something wrong with me." She didn't even sound sad, more just... resigned. Like she'd given up. "Some reason my relationships never seem to work out. Suppose he was right? I mean, not just about the sex, but- I don't know." She sighed. "I'm not good at making myself available. I don't like being vulnerable. I tend to... push people away."

Gibbs had to bite his tongue not to point out she was doing the exact opposite right now, just in case the realisation made her stop in her tracks. He really needed _not_ to read too much into how open she was being with him, but he couldn't bring himself to break the spell, either.

"And if I can't do the emotional stuff and I'm crap at the physical, I mean..." She laughed, though it sounded forced. "I wouldn't wanna date me, would you?"

Now _there_ was a leading question. He bit back his most honest response - 'Hell yeah I would!' - in favour of letting her get it all out without him derailing the conversation. He might be woefully under-qualified in matters of the heart, but he was still pretty sure this was _not_ the right moment to hit on her. "I think a lotta men are intimidated by a strong, independent, successful woman. Don't mean there's anythin' wrong with you."

"Hmmm." She looked unconvinced. "Is there such a thing as being too strong?"

He wanted to go find her ex and _rearrange his face_ for making her feel this way. "If a man can't deal with a strong woman, Kate, he doesn't deserve you."

She blinked, then smiled, blushing slightly, and he wished he had a camera on hand to capture her surprise and pleasure.

"I- was that a compliment, Gibbs? Thanks. I think."

He resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. "Yeah, it was a compliment." He kept his tone dry and amused. "Don't let it go to your head."

That actually made her giggle, and he was both relieved and vaguely amazed he'd managed to get something right.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He hadn't seen one of those blinding smiles pointed in his direction for quite a while. He couldn't help but smile back. "There's nothin' wrong with you, Kate. Nothin' at all."

She looked away and bit her lip, her blush deepening, but it was obvious she was pleased, possibly even a little delighted, by his summary.

"Takes two to make a relationship work. Don't take it all on yourself 'cause it didn't."

"Okay." Her voice was very small and she was very pink, but she was grinning, and when she glanced up at him again her eyes were bright and sparkling with her pleasure. "Thanks."

He grinned back, not quite trusting himself to say anything, or at least not trusting himself not to point out she was really incredibly beautiful when she smiled and she should do it more often.

"Thanks," she said again, more softly, and he had a feeling it wasn't just for paying her a compliment. She looked down but the smile still lingered, and he was ridiculously proud of her, of her resilience - of himself for cheering her up. When had he become such a pushover when it came to her, to his Kate? Hell, when had she even become 'his'? How did she keep getting under his defences without even trying?

He felt like he really should stop watching her so closely - should probably, in fact, get up, get some coffee, get them both out of his bed - but it was simply fascinating to see this side of her, the vulnerability she rarely allowed to show at work. It was impossible to make himself turn away.

She sighed suddenly, her expression turning pensive, shook her head.

"What?" _Get up. Offer her coffee. Continue this discussion in a safer environment_. His common sense was practically screaming at him to get out of here, remove himself from danger while he was still able, before he did something incredibly stupid, and yet he couldn't make himself move a muscle.

"I just wish I could be sure."

"'Bout what?" It was on the tip of his tongue to offer to help her figure out whatever she was still confused about, but he managed to restrain himself. Depending on what it was, she might be offended. Or she might take him up on it. Given recent topics of conversation, neither option seemed remotely safe.

She pulled a face and sighed. "After what he said about me and-" her face flushed again "-well, it makes me wonder."

_Oh, God_. He was suddenly very sure what she was hung up on and-

"I kind of wonder if he was right about me and... sex."

He swallowed. If it weren't so obvious she needed to talk about this, he'd clap his hand over her mouth.

Then again, if he stopped her now, it would probably be painfully obvious he couldn't deal with this, that he was, as it happened, both utterly intrigued and completely terrified by where this conversation was headed. Kate Todd in his bed, talking about sex. It was too much. He should say something, should suggest she talk to Abby or someone instead - should at least get himself away from her.

Or maybe he should find another way to shut her up... He squashed the thought down as hard as he could and tried to concentrate on what she was actually saying.

"I mean, it wasn't _amazing_ , but I didn't think it was... you know, _bad_. I thought I managed to make it good for him, at least... How did I get that so wrong?"

He laughed and raised an eyebrow. He was so, so poorly equipped for this, but still... _In for a penny_. "It, ah... y'know, it also takes two to be good in bed, Katie."

Her eyebrows threatened to disappear into her bangs. "Meaning?"

"Meaning he's an A-grade asshole, likely selfish as hell, and if it wasn't any good-" he smirked "-well, it was probably his fault." It didn't sound like said asshole had exactly gone out of his way to make it good for _her_ , after all.

She frowned. "How would you know?"

_Chance'd be a fine thing._ "Call it a hunch. Gut feeling."

Kate glared at him suspiciously, and he shrugged. So maybe if he was being totally honest the feeling had originated some inches _lower_ than his gut, but he still trusted it.

He'd seen how Kate threw herself into her life, when she allowed herself to. When she wasn't worrying herself into immobility, when she trusted the people surrounding her; eager and spirited, oftentimes without thinking things through, and when he allowed himself to imagine how those qualities might apply to her love life, well... yeah. That was exactly why he _didn't_ allow himself to imagine it.

After a long, hard look at him, during which he did his best to appear impassive, she shrugged. "Well. Okay."

He mentally tried out a few ways of telling her any man who didn't make sure she had a good time in bed was clearly not worth the energy, but he couldn't find a way to say it without sounding like he was trying to get into her underwear. _Best not risk it._

"C'mon, Kate, you know better than to let such a jerk take you down like this."

"Being rejected twice in one day didn't exactly do wonders for my self-esteem."

He frowned at her. "Twice?"

Kate rolled her eyes. "I was seriously drunk and _I_ remember it, so please let's not pretend you don't, Gibbs."

He frowned a little harder, then suddenly figured out what she meant and felt like a total idiot. _Oh_. "It wasn't exactly... rejection, Kate, I wasn't gonna take advantage of you when you were drunk. You know that."

"Yeah, and the rest." She shook her head and sighed. "It doesn't matter anyway, it was stupid of me, if I'd been thinking straight I wouldn't even have tried."

Was it selfish of him to be grateful she hadn't been thinking straight? Probably. But he'd gotten to kiss Kate Todd, albeit briefly, gotten to wake up with her in his bed, and those were two memories he wouldn't readily give up.

"And anyway, rejection for a better reason... it still hurts. Can't help it if it makes me feel like- like a loser."

He was fairly sure the sad puppy dog face wasn't intentional. She probably didn't realise trying to look pissed when her eyes were red and her hair was a mess wasn't really working for her. At least, not the way she intended. "Maybe you shouldn't be judgin' this based on two assholes."

She frowned at him, not following.

"Or one asshole and one bastard, anyway." He winked and grinned.

"Oh!" She actually smiled for a moment, even if it was a little wan, and he gave himself a mental high five for making her smile and a mental head slap for being so damn pleased about it. "You're not nearly as much of a bastard as you try to make out, are you?" She was looking at him speculatively, as if the thought had only just occurred to her.

_Whoops. That backfired_ _._ He shrugged again, figuring a non-verbal response was slightly safer than anything he might manage to say. She leaned in closer and he was sure it wasn't conscious, and he tried to concentrate on what she was saying, _confiding_ to him as her scent invaded his space once more.

"But I mean, if I hadn't been drunk - and if you _weren't_ my boss - would you be interested?" Her voice was quiet and sincere and apparently she wasn't actually trying to kill him, no matter what it felt like. "In me, I mean. I know I'm not a redhead, and judging by that woman who picks you up on the regular I'm not exactly the kind of woman you'd go for anyway, but I mean, in theory..."

In theory? In _theory?_

"Kate, I-" Jesus, this was dangerous, _really_ dangerous ground to be walking on, and he was suddenly brutally aware again that she was _in his bed_ , and-

"I just mean- do you think I'm pretty? I mean, I'm not, I'm not ugly, right? I know that. So what is it? Am I really that bad of a person, Gibbs? I know I can be sarcastic, and I suppose I can be- well, kind of a bitch when I'm riled - I think I have some good qualities too, but there must be a reason I have such bad luck with men, mustn't there?" She was almost pleading with him now. "If I wasn't - if we weren't - I just want an honest opinion, really, I just want to understand, want to know if there's something... something really _wrong_ with me, or... Do you think I'm...-" she shrugged, embarrassed "-attractive? If you can be, you know, objective-"

"Kate." She stopped mid sentence, looking confused and stricken and a little embarrassed - had probably shared more than she'd meant to. He studied her face, let his eyes flicker down to her mouth, the base of her neck where he fancied he could actually see her pulse fluttering away under her skin, then back to meet her eyes. Those damned beautiful, expressive eyes. How was it possible this woman wasn't sure if she was attractive? How the hell had _any_ man managed to make her feel so very bad about herself?

And how in the name of everything holy was he supposed to resist the chance to make her feel good again when she was gazing up at him that way?

_Screw it_ _._ It might be stupid and against the rules and really just incredibly poor timing, but maybe she needed this, and maybe he did too. And really, what was the point of having rules if you didn't break them occasionally, just to see what happened?

"No, Katie." His voice had gone dark and husky, he couldn't help it, and judging by her expression she had definitely noticed this time. "I really can't be objective about that."

He bent down, slow, cradling her face in his hand but giving her time, giving her an out if she wanted it, and her eyes went wide and her breathing sped up a little, but her mouth was open, soft and welcoming when he finally brushed his lips against hers for the first time.

A little high, needy sound escaped her throat, vibrating against where his thumb rested on her neck. He smiled slightly even as he kissed her deeper, slow and sure and thorough, trying to imprint the feel and taste of her into his memory, savouring her reactions. It was amazing; amazing she was letting him do this, amazing how good it was. Amazing he could make her moan, gasp, shudder.

He coaxed a few more delightful noises out of her, her body arching up against him, then finally made himself pull away before he totally lost his bearings.

Slowly, her eyes blinked open, her pupils huge and dark, and he grinned again, absurdly pleased with himself.

He cleared his throat. "That answer your question?" There was a catch in his voice and he cleared his throat again, though he suspected it wouldn't really help.

She swallowed, went to say something, swallowed again. "I-" She blinked. "Yeah?"

"Don't sound too certain there, Kate."

Her eyes dropped to his mouth, and she grinned momentarily, apparently recovering fast, her expression turning mischievous. "You offering to convince me, Gibbs?"

Okay, he'd walked himself _right_ into that one. "Uh." _Yes, please_.

She laughed suddenly, like the wicked woman he'd sometimes seen peeking out from under the veneer of professional, unapproachable ice queen she liked to wear at work, then shook her head, her face turning thoughtful. "You kissed me," she said, still sounding a little surprised, though not angry or appalled or shocked.

"Yeah, I... I noticed that, too."

"You're really good at it."

"Thanks." He smirked. "Not bad yourself."

She arched her eyebrows. "Well I can't see how you'd know from _that_."

He opened his mouth to ask what she meant, but she took him by surprise, her hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down hard into another kiss, and this time it was _him_ groaning as she explored his mouth, insistent, almost frenzied, and he was lying on top of her again but she really seemed okay about it, and _fuck_ , his brain was actually going to melt and he didn't even care.

When she released him, he was panting, practically drooling, and when he opened his eyes she was gazing up at him, breathing hard, smile wide and triumphant. _Minx_. So apparently they were _not_ gonna pretend this was a onetime, never to be repeated aberration. He was... really okay about that.

He leaned down, helped himself to a third kiss, this one less frantic, more familiar, more tender and sensual and languidly pleasurable - more the kind of kiss that had him wondering why the hell this had taken them so long.

They resurfaced when oxygen deprivation started to become a genuine concern.

"So... I guess you do find me attractive then, huh?" She looked pleased and shy and slightly disbelieving all at the same time.

He huffed out a laugh. "If you're still not sure, Katie, I must not be doing this right."

That got him another giggle. He'd never imagined Kate as much of a giggler before today, but it was a charming sound. He was very happy to be proven wrong, though he affected a disgruntled humph. No need for her to realise _quite_ so soon that she was allowed to laugh at him.

She bit her lip, her expression coy. "I'm open to persuasion."

_Wicked, wicked woman_. He was so far beyond screwed. And totally loving it. "Oh, is that right?"

She nodded, a slow smile blossoming on her face, and he gave the virtue of common sense a whole nanosecond's consideration before he kicked it into space and leaned down to kiss her again.


	4. Chapter 4

_KATE_

Coherent thought was hard to come by with his mouth on hers and his fingers teasing the skin of her waist, but she was certain of two things; he was very attracted to her, and she'd _definitely_ been right to be jealous of the few women she'd seen pique his interest. She could feel him smiling, laughing into the kiss, as if he was as surprised and delighted by this turn of events as she was.

He pulled himself a little further up her body, and despite herself it felt so good to be covered, overwhelmed, blanketed by his frame. He shifted, and she gasped as the movement between her legs brought his pelvis into intimate contact with hers and his attraction was solidified in the unambiguous evidence of his arousal. Her hands tightened on his shoulders as she moaned into his mouth and wriggled against him.

He chuckled again, pulled away just far enough to look at her, his eyes intense even with his smile, and she swallowed hard.

"So, believe I'm attracted to you yet?"

She made a show of thinking about it. "Getting there."

He growled and pressed himself against her, bending over her to brush his lips along her jaw, and she felt her eyes flutter closed and her legs part shamelessly in invitation. Yeah, he was, ooh, _really_ attracted to her. _Unnnnhhh_.

"How 'bout you?" he whispered roughly in her ear.

God, why was he trying to make her _think_? "How about me...?"

"You attracted to me, Katie?"

When she opened her mouth to answer, the first thing that popped out was a whimper. _Well, I will never live_ that _down_... "I, uh..." She swallowed. "I seem to remember I was the one who kissed you first..."

He shrugged a shoulder, spoke into her skin, his voice low and rumbling. "'Cause you thought I'd know what I was doin', sure. That the only reason?" He sounded so serious all of a sudden, like he was asking so much more than whether she'd ever looked at him and harboured a lustful thought.

His lips were doing wicked, wonderful things to her neck, his body was rocking deliciously between her thighs, and she wondered what the _right_ answer was, the answer that would make him _not stop_. She had no idea.

Before today, if he'd asked her this question - in the wildly improbable circumstance he'd ever ask her such a thing - she would've felt quite confident assuming he was hoping for a denial and a quick, meaningless fuck.

Then he'd held her and comforted her while she cried, wrapped his arms around her and made her feel safe, kissed her with such tenderness, been so much sweeter and gentler than she would ever have expected, and suddenly she didn't know anymore.

"Kate." He stopped, damn him, and she wanted to scream at him for it. Damn him and his wretched self-control. He lifted himself up to look her in the eye. "Answer me."

His expression had grown even more intense, and she gulped at the mixture of excitement and uncertainty and desire he was eliciting.

She studied his face, even as he studied hers, and suddenly she gave in. She didn't know what the 'right' answer was, could no longer make herself care. He'd get the unvarnished truth and if he didn't like it, well, it was too damn bad. "Yes, Gibbs. I like you, okay? I'm- I'm attracted to you, and I like you, and I _care_ about you, you annoying, frustrating bastard, I-"

She didn't get the chance to tell him anything else because suddenly he was kissing her again and one of his hands was touching her face and the other was finding hers to intertwine their fingers and _oh wow_ , he'd been holding back up till now.

When he drew back this time he didn't open his eyes, but rested his forehead against hers, his breathing laboured and a grin- no, not a grin, a _smile_ , a wide, unrestrained smile on his face. "Good."

"Good?" She couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice.

He slowly opened his eyes, and they were brighter and happier and more startlingly blue than she'd ever known them. "Yeah. Good."

She could feel her own smile widening to match his as surprise gave way to surprising joy, and a laugh bubbled up from her toes. "Okay then. Good."

"So," he murmured, his voice now full of mischief and warmth and - well, if she was going to be frank about it - sex. "Tell me Katie, what was it you wanted me to show you so bad?"

She laughed as she let her free hand hook into the top of his shirt and pop a button open, then another, watching his eyes widen and his smile stretch into a very pleased and very knowing smirk. "Show me..." She laughed again in anticipation and pleasure as his body pressed down into hers once more. "You can show me _everything_."


End file.
